Teacher's Pet
by Wilsden
Summary: The lads have been together for six months now (yes, I'm still in that mind set!) and Cowley needs to see them both.


Teachers' Pet.

The heatwave was relentless, days that stretched into weeks of unbroken sunshine and high humidity. 'Aye,' thought George Cowley as he turned his car into the car park of C.I.5's headquarters. 'It's the humidity I can't be dealing with whilst wearing this damn suit. However, standards have to be maintained.' He ran a hot finger around the inside of his collar and turned the engine off noting the shimmering heat haze that hovered a few inches above the concrete yard. 'And nor can I be doing with those bloody seagulls!' He surveyed the large white marks on the windscreen that he had made worse by attempting to clear them with the wipers. Now he was left with long smears the whole length of the glass. The fact he'd only just paid to have the car cleaned that morning before attending a meeting at Whitehall only irked the thrifty Scot within him further.

Anxious to escape the heat of the car Cowley grabbed his briefcase to hurriedly cross the yard into the relative coolness of the building. His organisation had been in place now for six months and he planned to spend the afternoon meeting with each of his operatives to review their progress and iron out any difficulties with partnerships.

Cowley reached the bottom of the winding staircase and heard above him the voices of two of his most promising agents. They seemed to have come to a halt on the landing three floors up.

"I've had enough of it now," Doyle was saying. "We need a good thunderstorm to clear the air. I hear one is on the way."

"Yeah, it's alright when you've got the day off with nothing to do but when you have to work in it….."Bodie agreed, trailing off.

"Day off? What's one of them?"

"Yeah, he has been working us hard lately, old Cowley. You'd think he'd ease up a bit in this weather."

"Ease up? I don't think he knows the meaning of the word, though to be fair it's hardly his fault the world is full of crooks and terrorists."

Cowley leaned against the wall and smiled. It was always good to know what his men really thought of him.

"You haven't forgotten we have our first half yearly review with him when he gets in have you?" Doyle asked.

"No, but it's only a quick informal chat to see how we are all getting on." replied Bodie and then added, with a teasing tone to his voice, "And he's going to be seeing me first."

"He told you that?" Doyle was surprised.

"No, but I'm his favourite so he's bound to want to see me first."

"His favourite?" Doyle snorted. "How do you work that one out? Cowley doesn't have favourites."

"That's what you think. You watch, he'll call me in first."

"What makes you think you'd be his favourite even if he had one? Why not me?"

Bodie looked his partner up and down and let his gaze rest on Doyle's mass of curls for a moment. "Do I really need to tell you?" he asked.

"Yes, actually."

Cowley, still at the bottom of the staircase continued to listen, a wry smile on his face enjoying the light relief their banter afforded him. There didn't appear to be anything amiss in the partnership of these two agents.

"Well," continued Bodie. "Apart from me being his best Class A marksman and all round top agent it's also my charm and of course my undoubted good looks."

"Oh, of course." Doyle agreed, sarcastically. "Though if Cowley likes you best for your looks then I'm glad I've got a face like this. I'd be worried, mate. Honestly, you're so full of it sometimes!"

"And that's why you love me!"

"That's not the word I would have used."

"Where is the old goat anyway?"

Cowley moved swiftly up the stairs. "The old goat, as you call him Bodie, is right behind you."

Both agents jumped visibly. "Yes, Sir. Sorry Sir." The three men climbed the last flight of stairs together and pushed through the double doors into the corridor.

"You've not forgotten I need to see you both for a review?" Cowley reminded then, giving the impression he'd not heard their conversation.

"No Sir. Ready when you are." Bodie said brightly, grinning at Doyle who rolled his eyes.

"Right then, might as well make a start. Doyle, you first. My office. Bodie, I'm still waiting for that surveilance report from you. Get it finished." Cowley turned sharply on his heels and headed towards his office smiling to himself. Doyle stifled a laugh and hissed at Bodie under his breath "Guess that makes me his favourite after all!" before following his boss aware his partner was pulling a face at him.

Cowley stood at the open window, viewed the mess on his car with dismay and loosened his tie just a fraction noting the slow arrival of threatening clouds drifting in from the West.

"So Doyle," he began, turning to face his agent. "How's life in C.I.5? Rather different from the police force I daresay."

"Yes Sir,you could say that," Doyle replied. "A lot more challenging."

"Challenges you seem to have met with consummate ease. I'm impressed with you Doyle, impressed with the start you've made in C.I.5." Cowley took a seat behind his desk to consider his operative. "You're enjoying it?"

"Very much so,Sir."

"Good, good. Any issues or problems you'd like to raise, because now's the time to do so, Doyle, so that we can nip them in the bud. As you know I'm hoping to get round to seeing all my men this afternoon so that I can make any necessary adjustments to teams."

"If you mean do I have any problems being partnered with Bodie then no, Sir. We're fine." Doyle assured him.

"I don't mind telling you he was a difficult man to place in the right partnership. He's headstrong and over exuberant at times to say the least."

"I have my moments too, Sir."

"Aye, that you do," Cowley conceded, taking a white hankerchief from his pocket and dabbing at his forehead with it. " But I'd hoped you'd make a good team and that you would be very happy together."

"You make it sound like we're married!" Doyle exclaimed, grinning at his boss.

"You might as well be," Cowley laughed. "You'll spend more time with him than your girlfriend."

"In that case Sir, can I swop him for a female agent if you have any? Someone a little easier on the eye!"

To Doyle's surprise Cowley leaned forward to look earnestly into his eyes.

"Would you swop him, Doyle, given the chance?"

Doyle stared back at his boss in reflective thought allowing a small smile to come to his face.

"No Sir," he said quietly, shaking his head. "Not for a moment. He's not easy to get to know, I think I've barely scratched the surface but he watches my back when I need him to and that's good enough for me."

"Good, but if that changes Doyle you need to see me straight away. Its vital that partnerships are the right ones and that they work. Your very life will depend on it." Cowley leaned back in his chair. "Well, if there's nothing else you need to raise Doyle, you can send in your other half if he's not too busy chatting up my secretary. And in view of this heat and the fact I have nothing much of any importance that needs your attention get yourself off to the pub. I'm sure you'd appreciate a cool pint. I'll send Bodie on afterwards. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes Sir." Doyle replied, surprised by this unexpected gesture from his boss. "Thank you Sir." A long cool pint couldn't come soon enough.

There was barely a breath of air in the room when Bodie entered and he tugged uncomfortably at his open necked polo shirt as he sat down.

"Hot enough for you, Bodie?" Cowley asked, seeing his agents discomfort.

"Reminds me of Africa, Sir." Bodie remarked. " I didn't like it then and I'm not too keen on it now. Surprised you haven't got your kilt on, Sir, you know, a bit of air around the nether regions."

"Do you Sassenachs assume Scots wear kilts all the time, Bodie?"

"No Sir,only in the haggis hunting season!"

Cowley allowed himself a smile at his agent's good humoured wit.

"But you're enjoying life in C.I.5? How do you feel the first six months have gone for you?"

"Fine, Sir. Very well in fact. Well, I'm still alive anyway!"

"Quite. You'll be glad to know I'm pleased with your overall performance, but Bodie, sometimes you severely test my patience with your recklessness and blatant disregard of my orders." Cowley leaned forward to look his agent squarely in the eyes to emphasis his point. " It has to be curbed Bodie, you put your life at risk to say nothing of your partners. I won't tolerate it Bodie. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Sir." Bodie replied, meekly. "Sorry Sir."

"Talking of your partner, how are things working out with Doyle?"

"Great. Doyle's okay."

"Good. You see, Bodie," Cowley said, getting up and coming to lean against the front of the desk beside him. "I've always thought there was something…...special about you. Do you understand me?"

Bodie wasn't a hundred percent sure he did. Cowley had an unusual look on his face that unnerved him. He shifted awkwardly in his seat.

"I think so Sir, but I'm nothing special."

"Oh but you are Bodie, you are. Och, don't get me wrong," Cowley continued. "Doyle's a good man, very competent but he's not….well, he's not you is he, Bodie? You've always been my favourite, did you know that?"

"N-n-n-no, Sir." Bodie gulped. Was it suddenly getting even hotter in here?

"I don't normally have favourites as you know so let's keep this between ourselves." To Bodie's horror the Scot leaned over to squeeze his arm. "And I like to look after my favourites, give them extra attention and special jobs." Cowley broke away from the desk to stand staring out of the window smiling to himself. "I have a special assignment for you, Bodie."

"And Doyle, Sir?"

"No, he wouldn't be up to the job. He'll be in the pub by now I shouldn't wonder, enjoying a nice long cool pint. No, this is a job for my favourite though I won't lie to you Bodie,this calls for someone who's a Class A marksman, an all round top agent and, above all someone who's not afraid of getting his hands dirty, so dirty that it could spoil his undoubted good looks." Cowley suddenly swung round to face him. "Are you up for it, Bodie?"

Bodie stared back at his boss, confused. Either the heat was getting to him or it was getting to Cowley for the old man wasn't making much sense and he was behaving rather worryingly. Best just say yes and get out of here, he decided,wishing he was in the pub with Doyle.

"Yes, Sir. What does this assignment involve exactly?"

"It's one that requires specialist equipment." Cowley beckoned Bodie to the window.

"You see my car, Bodie?" Cowley slid an arm around the other man's shoulder.

"Yes Sir?"

"It's been visited, Bodie, visited by seagulls and I'm not happy about it. Go and see Fred in reception and gain the necessary kit to deal with it. Just the job for teacher's pet don't you think? And remember what I said about my orders being followed to the letter."

And then suddenly, ever slow on the uptake, it was as if a light bulb had gone off in Bodie's heat sapped brain as he realised Cowley had heard every word of his exchange with Doyle.

"Sir, I was only joking….." he began.

"Aye, I know you were but you're still going to clean my windscreen for me aren't you Bodie, or are you once again going to disobey my orders?"

"No Sir." Bodie got up to leave feeling hot sweaty and downcast and as grey as the darkness that was creeping up on the room.

"Good, off you go now, quickly. And Bodie, if I did have favourites you certainly wouldn't be one of them."

Cowley watched the dejected figure slink from his office wondering if he hadn't been a little too hard on the young man. No, he told himself looking up at the sky, Bodie can take it. Besides, if I've timed this right ...

Moments later he saw the agent, bucket and sponge in hand crossing the yard towards his car under the encroaching black sky. There was a distant rumble of thunder and suddenly the heavens opened. The rain, slow at first stopped Bodie in his tracks. 'At last' he breathed aloud, setting down the bucket to close his eyes and tilt his face skywards. A sudden breeze ripped across the car park and the rain's intensity increased as Bodie held his arms out to his sides and let the water lash against his body soaking his clothes. Another loud crash of thunder and further raindrops dripped down his short cropped hair onto his face and into his open smiling mouth. Never had he enjoyed anything quite as refreshing! This was better than a pint in the pub! He turned to face the building and, seeing Cowley at the window, he grinned at him sure now that the old man had planned this all along.

Cowley smiled down fatherly at his agent. Yes, he thought, you are one of my favourites but that is a secret I shall forever keep to myself.


End file.
